You Done Goofed
by Synnifex
Summary: As if there wouldn't be a massive catch to summoning from another universe in order to solve your problems.


**This has been rated for Mild Violence, and Existential Pretention.**

* * *

A being that had once been Harry Potter still was. In the new mantle it had assumed, it was everywhere, especially the places outside of mortal comprehension. It was a link between all times, and as the designs of the divine unfolded, took its own appointed part without protest, experiencing something that, if reduced down to the parameters of its once-form, could have been called 'appreciation of activity.'

And when this being saw a thread being disrupted, and another saddened Harry Potter, who would grow ripe in years and be content to cross death's threshold in the proper way (instead of reaching out to something unknowable and destroying himself as it had once foolishly done), being latched onto by a crude and invasive magic; summoned to another realm where one of his name had fallen naturally…it interceded, and went in his place.

* * *

Within the summoning circle, void formed, swirled, and began to resolve itself into human shape. Dumbledore smiled as he perceived a visage that was recognizably Harry Potter. Another fulfiller of the prophecy to step into the place of their old one! Marvelous.

Then the figure spoke, and his was not the only heart that plummeted.

The apparition's voice was not loud, and its tones were pleasant, yet not a witch or wizard in the room could help but flinch at the absolute _certainty_ contained in the modulation of the speech. It hinted at absolutely incalculable levels of awareness, of things beyond ken, beyond sympathy or antipathy, beyond alteration in any way. A wave of instinctual fear ran through the assembly, and as a few of them began to comprehend - inasmuch as was possible - the magnitude of the mistake already enacted, the figure appearing much like Harry Potter spoke thus:

" _Albus Dumbledore and those who follow him…speak your purpose."_

When it became apparent that no one else would answer for him, the Grand Warlock wetted his lips and croaked a reply.

"Voldemort…we summoned one who has vanquished Voldemort…in order to do so again. But who… what _are_ you? You are not Harry Potter…"

" _My name is known to those who meet me at their appointed time. Speak your purpose."_

"This is a very bad idea," Hermione Granger cut in. For an instant the figure had seemed an amalgamation of the two parents she had lost the previous year, before suddenly being Harry Potter again. The unexpected reminder of their passing brought tears to her eyes.

"Don't ask for it Albus," she continued. "Not from…this."

"We have no other option," Dumbledore tried to say firmly, though his voice shook. For him, it had briefly appeared that the figure had piercing blue eyes instead of green, and long auburn hair that fell around its slight shoulders in waves…

He pushed all thoughts of his sister from his mind and ploughed on.

"We require you to vanquish Voldemort," he stated, what had been envisioned as a benign order emerging more along the lines of an uncertain question.

The figure's constant implacability did not waver, though the atmosphere of danger in the room redoubled.

" _The price shall be high...and not to your liking."_

A shadow of resignation in its tone was the closet the figure had come to expressing emotion. No one was misled into thinking that money was now at stake. Nymphadora Tonks had gone quite grey and was shaking her head mutely. First her late husband, and then her deceased son had gazed back from the place where the summoned entity stood.

"No, stop," she whispered. "This is wrong. This is _beyond_ wrong."

"We _must_ do it," Kingsley Shacklebolt hissed though clenched teeth, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. His eyes had strayed to the floor and would not rise. "Voldemort has become too powerful for any of us to face."

"What is the price?" Albus Dumbledore managed to ask.

" _For the vanquishing of a soul, unwilling, I am required to take another soul, unwilling."_

Everyone in the room blanched.

The figure waited.

"That is not something a good…" Dumbledore floundered for an appropriate term, and after discarding 'man,' 'person,' and several others, settled on "… _thing_ would ask for." He grimaced.

" _Look to yourself, if you seek judgment. All souls are alike to me - I am not the Law I follow."_

A heated discussion broke out. Some of the Order were willing to take the chance, while others remained violently opposed. A good number were still in shock or preoccupied with things only they could see.

Eventually, a majority was reached. Despite their reservations, no one had been able to offer an alternative, for their Harry Potter was dead, and Voldemort was now uncontested.

Albus Dumbledore spoke the fateful words for them.

"We wish you to vanquish Voldemort."

The figure crooked a finger. A snake-faced, ghastly pale man of terrifying mien instantly appeared before them. Screams and yells erupted from the Order as they recoiled from their adversary, before realizing that he was unmoving. Only Voldemort's red eyes were able to dart around in terror, finally fixing on the strange figure at the gathering's center.

"Potter?" He gasped. "Impossible…"

" _The Harry Potter you knew is dead,"_ replied the figure, speaking gently, almost sorrowfully. _"You did not fail to kill him, Transgressor, but I am not he. Our meeting that is-to-have-been shall come no longer, for the Now overrules all possibilities."_

"I…do not understand," said the dark lord, his absolute confusion reducing him to almost child-like plaintiveness.

" _Even those who consider themselves ready do not understand,"_ replied the thing addressed. _"This is equal for all."_

Another crook of the finger, and four finely crafted objects along with one immobile serpent clattered onto the ground by the Dark Lord's side. The figure in the summoning circle waved a hand, and cup, diadem, locket, ring, and snake all crumbled into ash. Voldemort's features took on an indescribable expression in the instant before he too evaporated into nothingness.

The remaining mortals in the room stood petrified as they regarded the being that had, without apparent effort, obliterated the adversary they had believed invincible and unassailable.

Completely unconcerned, the being spoke:

" _It was always necessary that, at least once, you get what you, in ignorance, asked for. Even at the contravention of a prophecy."_

They stared blankly at it.

" _How many are born at the end of a seventh month?"_ it asked softly. _"How can you be certain what the path is to be?"_

The apparition was not looking directly at any of them, but none could even attempt to meet its gaze now.

Once more its fingers moved.

* * *

Halfway around the globe, a young girl stumbled as she tried to jump from a playset; her head collided with a beam and she fell to the ground. The exuberant spirits of her companions swiftly faded as she remained unmoving.

* * *

Within the summoning circle, a second ghostly figure appeared. The specter of s child looked around in confusion, staring past the group of witches and wizards as if they didn't exist before fixing on the strange form beside her. There, she found some kind of recognition - for she smiled, and held out a hesitant hand. The dread apparition took it carefully, through no intermediate process seeming to enlarge as it drew the girl into its arms, until she was no more than a mouse being cradled by a giant. The ghostly child snuggled into the thing's chest and closed her eyes.

" _Our bargain is concluded."_

The power that was not Harry Potter looked around at the assembly one last time, and a shiver ran through them.

" _I am bound to speak of your decision today. Fate describes worlds where dark lords are killed without magic. Yours can no longer be one of those worlds. Within thirty years another power, greater and more terrible even than Voldemort, shall rise, for the one who could check it now leaves this plane."_

It look down at the child-spirit, and then back to its audience.

" _You have brightened another universe, and darkened your own,"_ continued Walks-With-Death. _"So it goes."_

Horror was now blooming on every face around the speaker, for the implacability of its voice wrapped around them like heavy chains – this was an incontrovertible truth, with no way to undo what had been done.

Without ceremony the being vanished, and they were left alone.

* * *

Moving between realities is inarticulable, even to those who have experienced it before.

" _Now, for a great many reasons, you should not exist where we are heading,"_ Walks-With-Death said to the young spirit as they navigated fundamentals. Protected as it was by his power, the mortal essence still retained the form of a human, and she giggled at the serious tone of what she took to be the young man holding her.

" _You are going to be quite a remarkable lady aren't you?"_ said her carrier, before laughing outright – an odd, thudding sound, that seemed to ripple the unreality surrounding them. " _Trespasser to another realm; existing, but unknown in your existence. An implausibility…I wonder whom you remind me of. Hah…it seems that even after Eternity, there is still more to learn."_

Fate was almost harmonic in the being's core, a beacon that folded through infinities and defined what was not place, but potential.

Walks-With-Death looked tenderly down at the pure soul as a new world began asserting itself around them in tune with the not-quite-music.

" _Well then,"_ it mused, _"what sort of destiny can we find for you?"_

 **FIN**

 **If you know where this story goes, write it.**


End file.
